Swordplay
by wickedshenanigans
Summary: Robin joins the post-Shattered-Sight curse celebrations at Granny's and hears just what Regina gets up to when she's in Evil Queen mode. Outlaw Queen, mildly cracky fun.


**Very belated happy birthday to nonsequiturvy, who is so awesome she deserves to have her birthday go on for a month! **

**Thanks to Addicted1 for consult, cheerleading and title!**

* * *

Robin had heard that there were typically celebrations at Granny's after the breaking of a curse.

That the post-curse routine is so widely understood is quite an accurate summation of how bizarre his life has become since arriving in Storybrooke. Since before then, really. Since a particular person had crash-landed in his life, as a matter of fact.

And now that the curse (another curse) is broken, and he has his son back in his arms, that particular person is one he is quite eager to see. He suspects he knows exactly where she'll be, and Robin's always willing to take on new traditions, so their first freshly-curse-free stop is, in fact, Granny's.

He pushes open the door, Roland pulling his hand free and running in ahead, and it would seem this new tradition holds, for there she is. She is standing close to the middle of the room, her arm around Henry, who has his arm around her, looking much the same as she did when they parted before the curse hit (only much less frightened). She is not hurt, as far as he can tell, and she is smiling, almost chuckling with Snow and David as they relay some story to Henry and Emma. She looks part of this, part of them, like she belongs, and Robin is so happy for her, so very proud. And maybe it's not his place to be proud, but he _will_ be happy. It is always his place to be happy for her, and if he deserves nothing else, not the fierce pillar of her strength or the wonder of her growth or the beauty and warmth of her love, or the wonderful, admirable, amazing woman she is, it will always be his place to be happy for her.

He's a greedy bastard, though, and he wants more.

"Regina."

She catches his eye; smiles that beautiful smile, and then he has closed the gap between them and swept her into his arms, so happy to see her, alive, unhurt and smiling.

She huffs a surprised laugh into his neck, tightens her arms around him briefly before pulling back, eyes checking him for damage the way he did from a distance seconds before.

"You're all right?" she asks. "Roland?"

He laughs too, can't help it, he's so relieved and so happy.

"Fine, we're both fine. We're all fine. We made it, Regina."

Her forehead creases as she smiles that watery smile, that smile of _I never thought I'd have this_ and _I owe someone a quarter_. He still hasn't the foggiest idea what she meant by that (they'd gotten a little… off-topic before he could ask), but he doesn't care, because she's hopeful and daring to be happy and he is so, so in love with her.

He captures her lips in a kiss right there; it doesn't cross his mind to care where they are or who sees. Not an especially long or indecent one (_she_ might care who sees more than he does), but he does tug her bottom lip between his teeth as they part, earning him an altogether different kind of smile.

She has no business smiling at him in that flirty, suggestive way in such a public place. And no, he doesn't care that he started it.

"So," he says, lacing their fingers together. "What happened? Did your plan work? Were you safe locked up in your vault?"

"No, it didn't, and yes, I would have been," she says with a roll of her eyes. "Emma let me out."

"She did? Why?"

"Apparently she thought that provoking the Evil Queen into a towering rage – " she purses her lips, then amends – "even more of one, anyway – was the best way to get the Snow Queen's magic ribbons off her and Elsa. And then they didn't bother to close the door behind them after setting me off on a murderous rampage."

She says it wryly, with heavy sarcasm, but her expression is tense and her voice somewhat strained. Clearly even the thought of what she might've done still scares her. Robin feels an unexpected jab of anger towards the Sheriff. Doesn't she know how frightened Regina is of herself? And she selfishly put her in a position where she could've hurt someone, unable to control her actions until it would be too late to do anything but hate herself for it? He forcibly squashes the feeling down. He's had quite enough of anger for one day.

"So what did you set out to do, once you were free?"

"Kill Snow," she answers without hesitation. For some idiotic, lovesick reason, her almost childlike decisiveness amuses him.

"I'd imagine that's to be expected," he says.

She nods, and the wide-eyed look of agreement on her face makes him laugh.

"I meant to kill Emma, but I happened upon Snow and Charming, locked up in the jail cells. I set Snow free and gave her a sword. I traumatised Charming with my antics."

Robin laughs again.

"You make it sound like you were a troupe of unruly children."

She lets out an incredulous huff.

"Trust me, it was very far from that."

Her expression is darkening, and he doesn't want to give her a chance to start beating herself up about what might have been.

"So, you gave her a sword? You didn't use magic on her?"

Her scowl deepens, but this time she seems almost petulant. Embarrassed, perhaps.

"She goaded me. Said I was afraid to fight her without magic. And I… wanted to hurt her, wound her. Savor it," she adds reluctantly.

Her guilty little pout makes him want to gather her into his arms, and he doesn't resist.

"You _are_ quite fearsome," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her hair. She pulls away, all sulky that he isn't running from her in terror like she obviously thinks he should.

"It was only dumb luck that I didn't kill someone, Robin. I wanted to. It was practically all I could think about."

He sobers slightly, seeing that she seriously wants him to acknowledge how close they came.

"I know. I felt it too. All I could see or think or feel was anger. It was violent and powerful, and I know yours is more powerful and violent than most. You could have easily killed someone. So could I, if I'd been able to get myself loose. But can we just take a moment to appreciate the fact that we didn't? Perhaps even laugh at the absurdity of it all?"

He tugs lightly at her arm, smiling in what he hopes is a winning way (she'd likely call it insufferable), attempting to coax her back to his embrace. She relents, a smile of her own blooming seemingly against her will. He finds it immensely satisfying, drawing that stunning expression out of her, helping her forget her anxiety and self-flagellation, if only for a moment. His own grin widens to besotted proportions, and she laughs at him, shaking her head at his ridiculousness. He darts in to kiss those smiling lips before she can stop him. She lets him, though she bats his arm in punishment as he pulls back. He is so relieved they made it through the curse unscathed, so happy to be with her and be the cause of that smile, he feels a little giddy with it.

"Besides," he adds, "I think I'd quite like to know more about this sword fight of yours. It sounds very interesting. Perhaps you could walk me through it? Purely for research purposes, you understand."

She shakes her head, smiling still.

"Oh no. I don't give away my secrets quite that easily. You'll have to do better than that, thief."

He swoops in to steal another kiss, a lingering one this time, threading his fingers through her hair and holding her close. She indulges one or two open-mouthed kisses before she stops it, blushing prettily as they break apart. She glares at him when Granny bustles past muttering something about _keeping their hormones to themselves_. He can't stop grinning at her like an idiot.

"Stop it," she says, going for stern, her heart clearly not in it.

"Stop what, m'lady?" he asks, all innocence, still feeling too silly for his own good.

She rolls her eyes, lowers her voice, trying her very best to tamp down her smile.

"Stop trying to kiss more information out of me. I'm not that easily seduced."

She is teasing, and he is delighted to see it, a hint of carefree that looks simply beautiful on her.

"Oh, are you not? My mistake."

He traces the side of her face with a gentle finger, toying with her hair, moving to the base of her skull and scrunching the muscles of her neck. She melts for a second, just a second, her body swaying into his, her eyes lowering, her tongue sweeping over her lips. Then she steps back, looks him in the eye firmly.

"For a thief, you're not very subtle."

He gives her a crooked smile, raises his eyebrows.

"Oh? Have you wisdom to offer me, Your Majesty? I do think I _have_ heard you called Queen of the Understated upon occasion."

She shakes off his hand, going for a fierce scowl that falls only slightly short.

"I suggest you take your wit to the bar. You might find a drunken dwarf who'll appreciate it."

He raises his palms laughingly in surrender. He wouldn't go poking for information if she really didn't want him to know, but there's a hint of wicked amusement in her face when he teasingly suggests counselling David through his 'trauma'.

"If you think you can handle it," is all she says, and though it's nonchalant, there's a glint in her eyes, a couple of extra teeth in her smile that suggest whatever it is they know that he doesn't, the last thing it's going to do is traumatise him.

Later, when Roland has gone to bed but Henry is still up, Robin does join David at the bar. He is sitting alone, staring somewhat dazedly into a glass of ale. Snow and Emma are in a booth with Hook, and a tipsy Leroy, while Regina is playing darts with Henry. Robin had thought to offer some of his target-hitting expertise, but as soon as he made a move in that direction, Will Scarlet made a loud joke about Robin's aim being all well and good until he was crossed in love and brooding at the bottom of a whiskey glass. Robin didn't especially want the details of that miserable afternoon shouted across the diner, so he took a detour to the bar instead.

He gestures to Granny, who brings him a whiskey without bothering to take his order (he wonders if that's a bad sign). He glances over at David. The man looks positively shell-shocked. It piques his curiosity, especially with the hints Regina dropped about having something to do with his unfortunate state.

"So," he says, clearing his throat. "How bad was she?"

David looks up, seeming surprised to find someone beside him. There's no need for either of them to clarify whom Robin's talking about. David turns his head in Regina's direction. She is lining up her own shot at the dartboard with Henry (who is offering tips, despite his own game leaving something to be desired) by her side.

David turns back to his glass with an enormous sigh and a rueful shake of his head. He takes a long drink from his glass. Robin watches with trepidation.

"That bad, really?"

Despite Regina's attempts to convince him otherwise, he'd been under the general impression that the whole thing had been rather anti-climactic, in the end. But David's stunned speechlessness seems to suggest the opposite.

"She licked a sword."

Robin blinks. He can't have heard correctly.

"I beg your pardon?"

David side-eyes him crossly, not pleased at having to repeat it.

"She _licked_ a _sword_," he says hoarsely.

Robin stares at him a beat longer, until he fully takes in what David said and his mind starts helpfully supplying him with images. He and David simultaneously pull from their drinks. Robin indulges his imagination for a few minutes, for as much as he can get away with in public, and tries not to suppose that David's mind is similarly occupied. He shakes himself out of it before the situation becomes uncomfortable (to say the least), turns to David again and asks,

"Is that supposed to be scary?"

David gives him a pained look.

"It was something to do with enjoying Snow's blood," he shrugs darkly. "She always did have a penchant for theatrics."

"You know, it's not polite to talk about people behind their backs, David," another voice joins, and David visibly starts, then glowers at the new arrival.

She is standing next to Robin, one hand resting lightly on the bar, the other at her side, just brushing Robin's arm. He beams up at her.

"Well, I could quite easily believe that of you, Regina," he says.

"Believe what, exactly?" she asks, feigning innocence.

"The penchant for theatrics. You do appear to be a woman who likes to make a statement. Not quite so much for the subtlety."

She smirks and bobs her eyebrows in a decidedly flirty manner. David drains his glass and gestures for another, determinedly not looking at either of them.

"I was just enquiring whether this… taste-testing the weaponry was a technique designed to frighten your victims, or…"

He trails off with a half-smile, holding her heated gaze until he feels he might combust with it. Regina's eyes sparkle.

"I would say you've been directing your enquiries to the wrong department," she says offhandedly.

Robin rises, snakes an arm around her waist and says quietly into her ear,

"Well then, perhaps you'd be so kind as to point me in the right direction."

Apparently it wasn't quiet enough, however, as at that moment David stands up and crankily excuses himself, telling them loudly as he walks away not to mind _him,_ that they might as well help themselves to _his_ sword while they're about it.

Regina looks at Robin and he looks back at her and they both snicker. It's childish, perhaps. Robin doesn't really care.

He tucks her tighter into him, sliding his fingers slightly under her jacket, nudging the side of her head with his chin in the direction David has stormed off.

"Shall we?"

She looks up at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

"Do you think we should?"

"He's practically asking for it. Be rude not to, really."

She giggles, the sweetest sound in the world next to the giggle of his own son, and Robin feels that, for once, everything is just as it should be.

And when they turn up at Snow's 'fireside chat' the next day, full of smug smiles (because she does love to pull one over the Charmings, and he loves _her_), and Regina magically produces David's own sword, saying she hopes he doesn't mind her borrowing it (for a fondue, Robin adds, and they share a smirk), David glares so hard that Snow asks him if he's strained his eyes, and Regina grins so widely that she looks in danger of pulling a cheek muscle. Robin kisses her temple, and his own cheeks are aching (he _loves_ her), and he thinks an ex-Evil Queen (excepting instances of being under a curse) and a mostly-reformed thief make rather excellent partners in crime.

There's something he finds quite enjoyable about her flair for dramatics.

Especially if it involves the licking of swords.


End file.
